Ficlets

Llama's Quiz: A Very Mediocre Interpretation

Well, I had finally moved to France. My clothing line, Fashion Statement, had brought the finances and need to move.
I had always regretted not persuing acting as a career. I honestly wanted to try it, if I could be famous for anything. Waking up from my daydream, I noticed an oddly dressed man infront of me.
“Greetings, my fair lady,” he said. “I am William Shakespeare.”
Strangely, I knew he wasn’t lying. We sat down on a nearby bench. After a long conversation, a call came into my cellphone. It was my secretary.
“Excuse me Mr. Shakespeare. It was truely a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed, and I walked down the street and entered a park.
“Yes Charolette.”
“Scrubs, right?”
“Yes.”
Soon I hung up, and continued walking.
I met a man from the french lottery, and he handed me a ten million dollar check, which later I deposited. “Well, here’s my ticket to change the world,” I thought to myself. “And I’m boarding the train.”

Purple.
A genie with unlimited wishes that only could serve me bwhaha.
My emerald set.

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